


Hand in Hand

by PantaloonWarrior



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Awkwardness, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, One Night Stands, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 13:56:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13614780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PantaloonWarrior/pseuds/PantaloonWarrior
Summary: The one where they don’t really know each other, Jenna finds them in bed together, and Josh breaks Tyler’s belt.





	Hand in Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Long story short, I made a joke about [this](http://pantaloonwarrior.tumblr.com/post/170378546392) pic, [tjstar](http://i-seeaspaceshipinthe-sky.tumblr.com/) told me to write about it, and for once... I did.

Josh is a pro at making quick decisions. He’s not a reckless type in any case; just a bit spontaneous. If someone suggests something that he likes, he’s out of the door, ready to go, and give it his all and nothing less. He simply lives for the moment and breathes through the present without worrying about the future for too much. Maybe that is why he often finds himself in all sort of unexpected situations - both good or bad, but never halting; he enjoys his lifestyle and goes on with his happy-go-lucky attitude with full speed, and people tend to call him a fucking cheetah for that, but _tonight._

Tonight, Josh feels _slow_.

Because he’s having hard time staying on the run as a pair of hasty hands grab him from every direction, pulling on his clothing and roaming at his sides with an excited demeanor.

Josh blames his own sloppiness on alcohol, but the man he’s currently making out with is seemingly getting boosted by it, and his passion his contagious.

They kiss heatedly, Josh refusing to fall behind as they get rid of their clothing on every step. Josh’s heavy jacket falls to the floor, the other man’s following suit, and they stumble across the narrow hall until they reach the door that takes them to a dark bedroom. Before Josh knows it, they’re positioned on the bed; a delightfully hard mattress groans under their weight, but holds them just right. For a moment, Josh has to look for his balance as he sways forward, almost cracking his jaw into the opposite’s face. He manages to find his support from the bed railing in the last moment, avoiding any unintended bruises from forming.

They keep going, not really exchanging words as they go for it, reading each other like an open book. They both know what they’re in for, and it’s Josh’s turn to take a firm hold of the other’s shoulders and push him on his back. Josh leans up on his knees, pulling his shirt over his head while long legs spread and entrail around his waist, wanting, exposing.

They work quickly together to shed the rest of the unnecessary layers between them. Josh tosses the last shirt on the floor, following its trail with his eyes as it goes, before a pair of hands turn his head and pull him back into yet another kiss. The mouth on his lips explodes with lust, the pleasure pushes hard against his thigh. Josh gets the message and exhales shakily, grabbing the man on his warm waist as foreign nails roam his bare shoulder blades. Josh’s own fingers sail down, down until they reach the rough material of denim, suddenly aware of a leather belt resisting his pulling motion there. Josh shifts his hands, grabbing the metal and ripping the buckle open with one swift movement, the belt coming off with ease.

Nearly free from every single nuisance now, Josh’s fingers undo the top button of the prone man’s jeans, feeling the sensitive trembling of his stomach as he does so. Josh smiles against the neck his mouth is currently occupied with and yanks the dude’s jeans down his thighs alongside his underwear, earning a gasp and sending the tremors of excitement through his own body. His partner kicks the pants off in a haste while Josh proceeds to take care of his own.

The man throws himself to the left then, barely reaching the small nightstand and getting the drawer open, pulling out a nearly empty bottle of lube and an unopened packet of condoms.

The rest rolls on its own weight.

 

*

 

Josh didn’t plan to fall asleep. Yet he wakes up in a bed that is not his own, neither the foreign scent of the sheets nor the peacefully sleeping body right next to him is enough to wake him up to the reality just yet.

He blinks the sand of sleep off his eyes and props himself up on his elbows, taking in his surroundings. The hot air in the room smells musty - like sweat and sex; the closed door conceals it into the dimly lit room as the early rays of sunshine poke their presence through the heavy set of curtains.

Josh sees the discarded clothes on the floor next and looks back to the guy on his left.

Oh. Right.

Josh has no idea what time it is, so he plummets back down. Normally he’d feel awkward about waking up in such circumstances and just leave without making a sound, but he steals another glance at his catch from last night and decides he’s not in a hurry as he studies his face in the newly given light. His company lies deeply asleep at the other side of the bed, one arm tucked under his beaten up pillow while the other rests limply in front of his face, halfly covering it. His relaxed features look oddly innocent, creating a wild contrast to their lewd activities from the last night.

He’s very handsome, Josh decides, trailing his gaze down and landing on the slumbering man’s hairy shin that peeks out from underneath the blue blanket, hooked and tan, the rest of his body covered yet very much naked beneath it.

Josh bites his lower lip and forces himself to look at something else then, nailing his thoughts to the ceiling and keeping his smiles to himself.

He yawns as he scans the ceiling panels for a while; he likes looking for abstract patterns in the wood that form bizarre figures in his head. Here, Josh can find an old man's face, a plane, maybe a rabbit.

He wonders where his phone is. Feeling the familiar pinch of the desire to check his social media feed, Josh tries to spot the location of his pants.

He’s about to heave himself back up and go get it, but it's then when he hears the rattling noise of a lock going undone, and Josh freezes. He hopes that he misheard it, that the sound is coming from one of the neighboring apartments, but it’s not, it’s coming from here and the door is just drawn closed, and Josh is doomed to recognize the sound of high heels clicking against the hard flooring and a tired female sigh following right after.

Oh, shit, he blasts, sitting bolt upright. Shit, shit, _shit._

His heart starts beating rapidly against his rib cage as he looks for a way to escape, finding none, and in a rush of an unexpected panic he considers grabbing his damned confederate and squeezing the dear life out of him, but the dude keeps drooling right beside him, completely unaware that he might be majorly fucked right then and there, and they were both gonna get killed by an exploding, probably soon-to-be ex-girlfriend when she finds out, and rightfully so.

Did this guy just cheat on his lady?

He doesn’t have time to mull over these things, because the bedroom door flies open and a set of angry words fly their way:

“Tyler, how many times do I have to tell you to put your clothes to the—” she starts with but then she gasps, shocked, and Josh gasps with her, and she leaves, and Josh buries his face into his hands, praying for somebody to pummel him to death as he has to listen to the unending chant of _oh my fucking gods_ over and over again.

Maybe the girlfriend will do it for him.

However, the events take a drastic turn as the words turn into a laughter, getting louder every second as the blonde woman barges back in and fucking _wheezes._

“Oh my god,” she says one more time. “I had no idea that he had company,” she exclaims in one go, still laughing as she doubles over, hand hanging from the door knob and Josh is, well.

Josh is confused.

“Um,” Josh outs, not really knowing what he’s supposed to say. He looks down on his lap, turning his head from side to side, softly clutching his blanket. Their intruder (?) gets what he tries to indicate and quickly reverts.

“Oh, right,” she blurts out, “you probably want to get dressed, right? Make yourself at home, don’t mind me,” she says nonchalantly and closes the door behind her, and Josh exhales, totally flabbergasted of what just happened.

Savoring the fallen privacy, Josh is about to free himself from the warm cocoon of his blankets that pool around his waist and swing his legs over the bed frame, but the door opens again and he flinches, pulling them back to cover himself.

“Did you want coffee?” the woman whisper-shouts and Josh stares at her with his mouth hanging open.

“Uh. Sure?” he more or less asks and earns himself a thumbs up, and the door closes one more time.

Josh cringes.

What the hell was going on?

He lags for a few more minutes before standing up, taking a leap and gathering his clothes in a haste. He steps into his boxers, one leg first, then the other, warily staring at the door as he does so. He’s never gotten fully dressed as quickly as he does now, and he takes one last look at the motionless body in the bed and sighs, scared shitless, and leaves his original host behind.

 

*

 

Josh peeks his head through the creaking bedroom door, hearing coffee cups clinking against each other in the kitchen. Glancing to his left, Josh sees his golden chance to escape; it would be so easy to just grab his jacket and leave the apartment and never look back. For a second, his brain totally urges him to do so, telling him to gogo _go,_ but he shakes his head, decides against it.

Reluctantly he steps into the narrow hallway, following the sounds that come from the opposite direction.

The woman has changed into more comfortable clothes now, baggy sweatpants accompanying her equally baggy sweatshirt with the text _Ohio_ written on it with white, bold letters.

She smiles when he enters the small kitchen.

“Uh, hi,” Josh says and waves his hand awkwardly. “My name is- I’m Josh,” he introduces himself politely, and the woman grabs his hand to shake it.

“Jenna,” she tells him and wow, she really doesn’t seem bothered at all.

“Hi,” Josh says again, and god, this can’t get any more awkward than it already is, so he goes straight to the point, “Do you mind if I use the bathroom?”

Jenna munches on a cookie. “Go ahead,” she tells him. “The first door on the left, right next to the mirrors,” she goes on and Josh follows her introductions.

When he comes back, there’s freshly brewed coffee waiting for him on the counter, already poured, and Jenna urges him to grab his own.

They drink in silence, standing side by side for the cramped kitchen doesn’t give them much personal space.

“So,” Jenna starts with and pokes him with her elbow, “did you guys have a good time last night?” she asks unashamed and Josh chokes on his drink, wiping the corner of his mouth.

“I’m not going into any details,” he sweats and Jenna chuckles at his words, making Josh eye her somewhat warily.

Jenna gets it.

“Oh, sorry. I did tell you my name but I didn’t really elaborate on anything,” she apologizes. “I’m Jenna,” she says and keeps quiet for the two and entirely horrifying seconds before adding, “Tyler’s roommate.”

Silence.

Josh’s mouth gapes, his eyebrows rocket skywards; he lets out a prolonged _ohh_ , and Jenna laughs over it as she sees the utter relief on their guest’s face. The elephant is finally out of the room, yet Josh wants to rub his face off as he sets his mug down on the counter and does just that, huffing out,

“And here I thought that he’d just cheated on his girlfriend and I’d have to witness the horrid consequences,” Josh says, pointing at the bedroom then and Jenna sniggers again, finding it hilarious.

“I am so, so sorry for scaring you like that,” she says shaking her head and putting her hands together in an apologizing manner. She comforts:

“But no need to shit your pants because of it. Tyler doesn’t really do relationships, you know,” Jenna says and halts, browsing the words in her mouth and frowns as she finds both ‘Tyler’ and ‘relationships’ in the same sentence. “He’s more like one of those guys who just hook up with anyone he sets his mind on at these clubs, and proceeds from there,” she prattles, and quickly adds, “No offence of course, you seem like a nice guy and all, but that’s just how he does it,” she finishes and takes a gulp of her coffee.

“Non taken,” Josh assures with a light heart and looks at the hallway again. “So he- uh, Tyler, was it?” he wavers, and Jenna quirks her eyebrow at that, catching on their case like she already knows everything,

“You didn’t even ask each other’s names before doing the do?” she keens.

“Well,” Josh starts, and his voice trails off just the way that makes Jenna cackle and clap her hands, congratulating them for not giving a fuck.

Except they did give a fuck, and the thought makes Josh to wring the corners of his mouth upwards, but he swallows his private cherishes.

Jenna recovers quicker this time.

“You’re both hopeless!” she declares, and Josh smiles at her, bashful. She’s a funny fellow.

“You seem awfully close with him though, spreading out his hobbies the way you do!” he remarks, quirking his head and Jenna nods, rocking her whole body as she does so.

“We’ve known each other for a long time,” she tells him, emphasizing her words on the last part, tapping her toes against the floor. “But we’ve lived together for only a couple of years, actually. Doesn’t feel like that, though. This household is a mess.” She quiets down for a second then, before speaking again.

“So, are you staying or just waiting for Ty to wake up?”

“Uh,” Josh starts with, and dammit, he feels so intrusive. “I was gonna wait until he- uh, Tyler wakes up. Just to, you know. To say hi,” Josh stutters and mentally slaps himself for it, but Jenna doesn’t seem to notice.

“You’re so sweet,” she says instead and Josh nods, smiling back, but feeling a bit stupid nonetheless.

“So let’s go and see if we can pull him back from his little coma,” Jenna decides and turns on her heel, hurrying back to the ‘tomb of the house,’ as she calls it. Josh stays a tad behind as he wonders whether he’s supposed to follow or not.

He ends up leaning on the door frame and watching as Jenna leans over Tyler’s face, her loose hair flowing off her shoulders, nearly tickling his cheek.

“Okay sleepyhead, time to wake up,” she says and shakes his shoulder, but failing at pulling a reaction from Tyler’s unconscious body as he lies flat on his stomach, not moving an inch.

“Is he dead or what?” Josh asks and tries to get a better look as Jenna pokes Tyler’s nape.

“Oh no, this is what always happens when he ends up drinking too much, like, his system just shuts down. I think it’s his body’s way to protect him from the outrageous hangover he’s going through,” Jenna explains and inspects Tyler’s wrecked state closer. “He looks like he’s gotten ran over by a train,” Jenna commentates, and Josh’s crust breaks at her words.

Jenna grins, can’t keep her mouth shut.

“Looks like you guys had a rad night after all.”

 

*

 

Josh leaves shortly after their futile attempts at bringing Tyler back from the dead. Jenna started yawning after a while, mumbling something about a long night shift, and Josh knew it was time to leave them alone, a hint of disappointment in his voice as he bid them goodbye. Too bad that Jenna was the only one to hear his words.

So he walked back, the chilly air clearing his head and the sunny sky making him walk some extra.

He’s home now, slumping down on his worn-out bachelor couch and finally pulling out his phone.

He taps at the screen, feeling lazy. More or less involuntarily, his thoughts take turn to the last night, getting distracted as he tries to browse through his missed out feed.

Eventually Josh puts his device down, snatches a pillow and presses it against his face, groaning.

He should have asked Jenna for Tyler’s phone number.

 

*

 

As expected, Tyler doesn’t emerge from his bedroom until four. Jenna hears the familiar door creaking and opening and turns her head to see Tyler walking down the hall in nothing more than his striped boxers. He limps slightly as his bare feet slap against the laminate, carrying a pile of dirty clothes in his hands.

He spots her sitting in the living room, squinting his eyes as if he hasn’t seen the daylight in the last ten years, his hair going to every possible point of the compass.

They stare at each other, neither moving an inch.

“Laundry,” Tyler mumbles after a while, still half-asleep.

Jenna sighs.

“Tyler, you slept through our laundry shift. Again,” she says and points her finger at the drying rack at the corner of the room, where her own clothes are hung up on the washing line, neatly set there side by side, already halfway dry and pristine - just to prove her point.

Tyler doesn’t say anything, just blinks at the sight and scurries back to his bedroom. Jenna sips on her tea and continues reading her magazine, when she hears a curse and a constant sound of metal clinking against metal.

“What?” she asks rather roughly at the same time she finishes, poking the lemon in her white cup with the spoon in her hand.

Tyler walks back, twisting his pants from left to right around his waist as he goes. He steps in front of Jenna, showing her his issue like a little kid asking her to fix his broken toy.

“The buckle is ripped off its fucking hinges,” he points out and lets Jenna try and get it to work, but it’s useless. The soft leather has failed its bonds; the silvery parts are barely holding their stances anymore, some of them already fallen and lost.

“It’s my favorite belt. Got it from my dead grandma on seventh grade,” Tyler recollects and hopes that Jenna’s fingers will work their magic, but she groans and shakes her head, saying,

“It’s beyond repair, Tyler. There’s nothing I can do,” she says, looking up and receiving a pouty look from Tyler.

“But why,” he asks, seemingly hurt of this blatant injustice.

“Maybe Josh broke it,” Jenna suggests half-heartedly, and Tyler quirks his eyebrow at her words.

“Who’s Josh?” he asks, confused.

Jenna laughs. “Are you kidding?” she returns, getting up from the sofa and crossing her arms.

Tyler doesn’t get it. “What?”

“Josh. Your charming paramour from last night,” Jenna says and smiles somewhat deviantly, and Tyler cranes his neck at the ceiling, his eyes going lucid as the spark ignites on its own and he remembers,

“That _bitch!_ ”

 

*

 

Meanwhile, Josh is munching on his cereal, completely oblivious that his name is being cursed at the other side of the town.

He taps the rings with his spoon, trying to get the milk to suck its way into the flakes faster, still thinking about Tyler, unable to get him out of his mind. He’s mildly worried that he’d somehow managed to kill him, and the thought makes him reason whether he should be more careful with his rough maneuvers the next time he goes at it. Then again, it was exactly what Tyler had asked for, and Josh happens to enjoy giving just as much as he enjoys seeing blissed out bodies beneath his own.

However, not all roommates are as nice as Jenna, and Josh had a good chance of getting thrown down the balcony with Tyler in his arms if his usual luck was nowhere near him, and they would have frozen their asses off in the remaining snow banks that the late spring still had to offer.

But that didn’t happen. Instead, he’s rolling his phone in his hand and eyeing Tyler’s face on every single social media page he’s managed to dig out. The problem is that all his accounts are private, and Josh can’t go any deeper with his stalking. The screen dims, and Josh pokes his thumb against it, wondering whether Tyler would be awake already.

He’s not even desperate, just… interested.

 

*

 

Jenna leaves to meet her friends that night, and that leaves Tyler alone at their apartment. He sits at the kitchen table, tapping his fingers against his arms as he watches Jenna’s steps from their window, walking down the street until she turns around a corner and disappears from his sight.

Tyler sighs and brushes his fingers through his hair, thinking.

He gets up suddenly and goes to his bedroom. He flicks the ceiling lamp on - the one that he never uses due to its horribly bright light, and hops on his bed; his knees press tiny imprints into the mattress as he inspects the sheets until he finds what he’s looking for, bending forward and picking it up.

He pulls up a single strand of hair. Setting it on the palm of his hand, Tyler studies it intently, pinches it between his thumb and forefinger to keep it from escaping his tender grip as he stares at it.

The hair looks pink in Tyler’s eyes, freshly dyed and vibrant. He scans it from root to tip and licks his lips as he crosses his legs and slumps down on his bottom then, eyes clutched on his hands. The hair glistens against his skin, its color so strong and stunning that he can't stop touching it for a while. Tyler has no idea how he’s managed to miss this pink little detail that feels so much more immense now. How fucking drunk was he last night?

Tyler shakes his hand and the hair gets lost in the sea of crumbled sheets. He sighs in frustration, scratches his head and gets drowned in his heavy thoughts again. He doesn’t like the way he feels after going out and bringing these men home or going to their places. He's always drunk, and it makes him feel kinda pathetic about himself, for sometimes he doesn’t even remember what he’s been up to all night. The thought creeps him out, honestly, in addition to the fact that he doesn’t seem to be able to control himself, ever.

The sex is great, he doesn’t want to complain, but he can’t help but feel a bit lonely when he’s alone like this. He doesn’t want to admit how much it affects him, but he never goes as far as interacting with his one night stands again, either.

Not that he even wanted to. Not really.

Tyler wipes his itchy nose and looks around his messy room. He really needs to get some laundry done. Getting up from the bed, Tyler fetches his basket and starts stripping his bed from its clothing. He slips the spoiled sheets and smudged shirts into the basket, and as he steps back, his toes kick something under the bed, causing a jingling sound. Wondering what it is, Tyler tries to bend down to see but it’s not enough, so he gets on his knees and blindly fishes the object into the light with his hands.

Dust bunnies stick to its sides as he pulls it out. Tyler blows them away and jerks his head away as the puff sends the dust in the air like a flock of swallows, groaning.

He opens his eyes and frowns at the sight.

Because it’s a wallet.

Tyler turns it around in his hands.

“What the…?” he wonders out loud and opens it.

His eyes widen as he sees Josh’s picture staring back at him on his driver’s license. In the picture, his hair is dark and wildly curly, but it’s still definitely Josh, hands down.

Tyler’s fingers grace the leather as he scans the picture and Josh’s full name written on it. Crap, Tyler thinks. He has Josh’s _wallet,_ and the dude might not even know it. He’s probably looking for it even now, has already gone through the annoying process of amortizing his debit cards and all that shit, having no idea that he’d dropped it _here._

Tyler flips through the sections of the wallet, and dear lord, he finds Josh’s address and his phone number written on a piece of paper that shows itself through a pocket of a see-through plastic.

He sits back on his mattress, dirty clothes long forgotten, and digs his phone out of his pocket. Goddammit. What a nuisance. All of a sudden, he feels nervous as he feeds the number to his phone and checks it at least three times for mistakes, and sighs. He’d be a nervous wreck himself if his wallet had gone missing, so he shakes his head after a while and presses the green icon, waiting for Josh to pick up.

 

*

Josh is watching TV when his phone rings.

“Hello?” he says as he answers.

“I have your wallet,” comes the immediate response from his phone then. The caller skips the greeting part altogether, and it makes the words sound more like a threat than an actual informing in Josh’s ears. He frowns deeply as he mutes his TV to process the words.

“Sorry?” he asks, sighing right after. “Is this some sort of prank?” he adds with a bored voice, inspecting his fingernail as he does.

“No, it’s true. I have your wallet,” the foreign voice argues agitately and Josh rubs his belly, casting his eyes back on the TV.

“I’m pretty sure I have my wallet here, thank you very much,” Josh says but starts roaming his pockets anyway, finding them empty. He furrows his brows again and sits up, looking around him. An unpleasant feeling of something being horribly wrong sinks in as he goes to his jacket, fruitless in the end and realizes that his wallet is, indeed, nowhere to be found.

The voice comes again.

“Whatever, man. I can go to the police station too and you can collect it from there. I just might ask for a little reward or, or you know, snatch a twenty or two right away, since I highly suspect that you broke my belt last night,” Josh hears the heated response, and he stops moving all at once because he _recognizes_ this voice.

“And this… pizza coupon,” comes the last tirade at the same time and Josh can’t believe his ears. 

“Is... is this Tyler?” he asks without listening anymore. The line goes silent for a second.

“Yes,” Josh hears in answer, and wow. Now it’s his turn to fall silent.

 _The_ Tyler clears his voice after a while. “So…”

“I think you have my wallet, Tyler,” Josh smiles as he rubs his jaw shyly and hears a faint laugh at the other side of the line.

“I think so too.”

 

*

 

They meet again that night. Josh finds himself behind Tyler’s door sooner than they both had expected. Tyler opens it, no manners this time either as he ignores the simplest _hello_ without batting an eye.

“Did you just drive here?” he asks the second his head appears from behind the wooden door, so quickly that Josh is forced to take a step back. He raises his arms in a mock surrender and chews his gum, making Tyler tsk.

“Without your driver’s license and all…” he scolds, disapproving, but opens the door anyway. “I might have to take you and your wallet to the police station after all,” he teases and Josh laughs at his words.

“I like living dangerously,” Josh shrugs and steps inside. It feels weird to stand in the same hall again, the context being what it is; different.

Tyler makes room for Josh to enter, leaving some space between them. They stand facing each other, not really knowing what to do with each other. Tyler fiddles with his hands, smiling, but his nervousness shines through his features. Josh is no better himself.

He scratches his neck. “So…” he says, and Tyler snaps out of his trance, having stared at Josh’s hair for whatever reason.

“Oh, right, your wallet, yeah. It’s here,” Tyler says and turns around, waving his hand for Josh to follow him. Josh shucks his shoes and hangs his coat, and does just that.

They go to the living room where Josh’s possession awaits, set on the coffee table right next to a jar of the same cookies that Jenna was eating earlier today.

Tyler grabs the wallet and hands it over to Josh without a word.

“Didn’t even realize it was missing,” Josh says and pockets it without bothering to check its contents. Tyler takes a note of it and smiles faintly at his trustfulness, sitting down on the couch and taking a cookie. He nods his head for Josh who waits politely, silently asking him to get comfortable, to hang out.

Josh does.

“Is Jenna home?”

Tyler shakes his head.

“She’s meeting her sister and some friends today. Doubt she’ll bother us this time around,” Tyler says, wiping fallen off cookie crumbs off his purple hoodie and spreading them all over the couch.

“I feel so bad for her, I really do,” Josh says honestly and is forced to swallow his words as Tyler dismisses his worries with a nonchalant wave of his hand.

“She couldn’t care less, trust me. You don’t know my roommate the way I do,” he asserts, flailing his hands at the same time, and Josh takes it. “I’m pretty sure she’s already seen everything,” Tyler adds, a hint of fear in his voice, and Josh pokes his lower lip out and nods, squinting his eyes, not sure if he wants to know.

Tyler continues.

“She actually filled me in, about the morning I mean. Sorry about that dude, my mind was… occupying a different landscape that time,” Tyler says, searching for the right words to end his babbles.

“Aren’t you having a hangover?” Josh teases, and Tyler snorts, grinning victoriously.

“No way, dude. Sleep is the cure,” he says as if it was nothing, and flexes. Josh sneers, can’t believe that Jenna’s words were actually true.

“I’m jealous of your talent,” he confesses, and he means it.

Tyler smiles and twirls a lock of hair between his fingers then, pulling slightly, staring at the floor. Having showered earlier today, he looks completely renewed; his hair is clean and shiny, and his entire being is relaxed and open as he sits at the corner of the couch, his legs resting against the coffee table. Josh can’t help but stare.

“What?” Tyler quips, knowing all too well what he’s doing to Josh.

“Let me take you out for that pizza someday,” Josh blurts out without thinking, the eternal habit of his, and Tyler’s fingers halt. Josh eyes him curiously, his heart beats faster as he watches yet another smile broadening Tyler’s lips, a faint blush tinting his cheeks.

“Deal,” Tyler says, and they shake hands. Tyler is about to pull back, but Josh holds on, squeezing gently,

“And, you know,” he trails off. “To make up for that broken belt,” he finishes with an apologizing tone.

Tyler breaks into a loud laughter that rattles his whole body, totally caught off guard.

He fixes his eyes back on Josh, shaking his head as he laughs through his teeth.

“I'll see that you will, Joshua William Dun.”

**Author's Note:**

> He got a nice new belt, I'm sure.


End file.
